


The Spring He Came Back

by pseudolily



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Communication Failure, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Friends to Lovers, References to Depression, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29823477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudolily/pseuds/pseudolily
Summary: Momo found herself face to face again with her childhood best friend after he left town ten years ago in the middle of winter. She waited every spring and fervently hoped for his arrival.
Relationships: Hinamori Momo/Hitsugaya Toushirou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

_It’s spring again._ Hinamori took in the sight of the budding dogwood trees against the backdrop of the setting sun as she rode her bike on the way home. _Ten spring seasons, but why am I counting?_ She sighed, dejected at the trail of her thoughts.

A lot of things have happened within that span of time - the town that was once a cozy enclave of memories has become an escape for the younger, rowdier bunch. This encouraged the rise of businesses that eventually took over natural spaces, like the meadow of daffodils where they used to hide from household chores, the riverfront where they tried to catch fish but they ended up falling anyway, and the hill where they used to stargaze well after the lights were out.

They. Hitsugaya and her. Hitsugaya, the scrawny kid with an ever irritated disposition.

Despite this, she thought herself the same....despite all that happened. She had the same hobbies, went to the same market, bought her fruits from that one vendor, ordered her usual in the cafe by the corner of her flowershop which she bought just two years ago. She was not entirely different but she was also not the same. Yet she found herself still waiting.

The following days, she found herself buried in accounting books. A whole year was over and so she ought to prepare for the busiest season - updating backlogs, forecasting her target revenues, and the short-term losses she will incur for that one supplier whose fields of ranunculus surrendered to frost last year. Ah, she will also need to come up with suppliers for dried flowers - the recent trend nowadays. Maybe she should diversify into wildflowers too? Hinamori sighed, massaging her forehead as she felt an incoming migraine.

She reached for her already lukewarm black tea on the counter. This was the fifth straight day that she didn't get to enjoy her favorite brew. She was fortunate that customers were scarce on this particular day. She wanted to slack, but she knew better than to abandon her progress. She cannot fall back. She didn't have a safety net, and most of all, she only has herself. The ding of the bell from her door opening pulled her back from her mindless mulling.

"Hello?"

She knew that voice, a tad deeper than what she remembered, but she knew it. Hinamori slowly turned her head to the entrance of her shop, her heart beating too hard against her chest. The silver hair caught her eyes first, and then she saw him. His turquoise eyes levelled with her sight, and his face mirrored her shock. Slightly opened mouths, silent gasps, and a tension in the air that they both knew accumulated for a long decade. A million thoughts....and questions....running through thousand micro expressions.

One thing was for certain. This was the spring he came back.

"Toushirou."


	2. Yellow Meadows of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Childhood memories and the shift that changes it all.

“He looks like I could send him back to the oblivion where he came from with one flick of my finger,” Momo said to her grandmother.

Baba, as she fondly called her, just continued washing the scrawny, beat-up kid in front of her. He had a bulging left eye from where another street kid punched him, and he seemed to miss some of his teeth. His silver hair stood out, but it was littered with dirt she dared not go near. Despite his measly state, the kid glared at her through his swollen eyes. “Momo, a child cannot go back on the streets.”

“I know you have a big heart Baba, but you cannot just pluck a scrawny spiky broomstick from the road and bring him home.” Momo grimaced. She felt sorry for him, but she did not enjoy the fact that she will have to share her only relative to this stranger and a troublemaker, she bet.

The kid was trying to spat back at her, but his mouth was too wounded his words came out incomprehensible. Baba chuckled at this ‘little’ argument, and her soft, gentle hands started applying medical ointment on his face. “My dear Momo. He helped me bring home your favorite fruit. The other kids wanted it and tried to grab it, but he fought them off. See, he respects elders.” Baba gave her a fond smile.

_Oh my god, my grandmother is smitten._ Momo glanced at the kid again, and he flashed an attempt of a grin. But then she felt suddenly apologetic. The watermelon Baba brought home has a crack, and some of its juices already flowed out of the gigantic fruit. The net bag that was supposed to carry it was tattered and split. She didn’t ask for it, but it was summer, and Baba knew it was her favorite so she traveled to the farm on the opposite of town to get one piece.

“His name is Hitsugaya Toushirou, and he’s two years younger than you.”

And she came back home with a scrawny kid. “A whole dumbass eight years old.”

After several days, Momo learned that he was not only scrawny, he was also snarky. Every time she instructed him to do house chores, he would stick out his (healing) tongue at her and make monkey noises, and she would proceed to hit him with a broomstick that looked like his hair. Baba treated these interactions as her daily form of entertainment. After all, it was a good noise that enveloped a rather lonely house.

Momo lost her parents to a fire accident when she was three. Since then, she started living with her grandmother and treated her as her whole world. She would learn later on that the Hitsugaya kid was an orphan abandoned when he was three. She had Baba, he had no one. But she didn’t feel particularly sympathetic when he would just randomly yell, “Bed-wetter Momo!”

They started to notice it when Momo devoured books from the town library. Hitsugaya or Shirou-chan as he hated to be called prodded her open book with a stick while she was reading under the large camphor tree. “Hey bed-wetter Momo, what are you doing?”

She swatted away his stick and kicked his shin. “Reading, broomstick Shirou.”

“You know I hate that name. Stop using it. What is it about?”

“Then stop calling me bed-wetter. I never wet my bed you schmuck. It’s about the evolution of forests, how they bounce back to normal after a fire or a drought. You’ll never understand so go away.”

“Hey.” He continued prodding with the stick. “Teach me how to read.”

It was probably the first time she felt a semblance of pity because reading was close to her heart. She was adept at learning, but they didn’t have the money for formal schooling so she took what she could from the public library, almost religiously worshipping its grounds. Books transported her to worlds, far from the sadness that was always creeping in from her periphery. It was a productive distraction and her safe space she could access anywhere and anytime. Books were her friends and her teachers.

Grumbling, she went inside the house and grabbed some papers. He may not also know how to write. This was the starting point of everything, and the petty fights and aggressive name-calling scaled down to kind banter resembling childhood friendship. The most evident change however was Hitsugaya’s quick capacity to learn. He started accompanying her in libraries, reading more books than she did. Soon, he abandoned fairy tales and fiction and went straight to scientific journals in the reserve section.

Momo joked that he was only pretending to understand so he could one-up her, but he just dismissed her with a scowl. When she joined him in the archives, she saw his brows furrowed over a big book with many numbers and equations. Nature fascinated Momo but never math. That kind of focus Hitsugaya only occurred when he was cutting firewood or catching fish in the nearby riverbank for their dinner.

“Hey Momo, can you lend me your pencil?” he asked without looking up.

“You’re not supposed to write anything on the pages,” Momo refused. She also didn’t have a pencil on her that day. “Whatever is it for, Shirou-chan?” He grew tired of scolding her for calling that nickname some many months ago.

“Well, I think the results for this equation is wrong.” That was when Momo knew he was bound for something greater.

“Why don’t you borrow that book and we’ll solve it on our way home?”

They spent hours hidden among the stalks of yellow daffodils with Momo listening to Hitsugaya’s explanation about the equation’s mistakes. She noticed that he never failed committing to memory what he read even for just a second. The books called it photographic memory. For some time and in this yellow field, she his student, and she eagerly learned from him. They started on a rough patch and such prejudiced footing, but there they were, lying in the middle of the daffodil meadow no one really owns, giving and taking about the secrets of the world under the glowing halo of the dipping sun.

His small but already rugged hands suddenly reached out towards her, and she inadvertently gasped. He was brushing the petals from her hair. “Ah Momo, we might get allergies from too much pollen. Let’s go home to Baba.”

And when the afternoons on the yellow meadows weren’t enough, their conversations extended to night escapades atop the hill behind the house where the stars were almost near enough to touch. Momo never expected this kind of happiness, especially from the scrawny kid with an irritable disposition. Well, he was still irritable but not to her, not anymore. She wished this would go on forever.

But of course, that wasn’t possible. Because the world has plans of its own.

Baba was accompanied by a black-haired guy one day. Momo was sure he wasn’t an orphan or a street kid her grandmother took pity on. He was dressed in coordinated tan blazer and khaki pants and had glasses on. He looked like the typical professor she would see in the library and would frequent the reserve section and archives that Hitsugaya loved the most.

“Hitsugaya, this man is Dr. Kuchiki. He wants you to go to the academy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m diverting away from Bleach canon as if it wasn’t obvious already. Just a small, itty bitty change – Hitsugaya’s grandma became Hinamori’s grandma. This is for plot friends, please trust me on this! >.<


	3. Last summer into the beginning

“What does he want me for?” Hitsugaya’s arms were on his hips, and he huffed indignantly at the man in front of him. The professor’s height was like two Hitsugayas stacked on top of each other or two and a half.

Hinamori knew of him. Dr. Byakuya Kuchiki. He secured sequential federal funding for the development of the town, allowing the rise of laboratories, science museums, and research centers on the south hinterlands. He was responsible for the libraries with extensive catalogues in every major district. He was the reason why outsiders gave a moniker to their locality – _Soul Society._ A-lister faculty and a select roster of students who routinely undergo rigorous training and internships were called _soul_ , figuratively referring to them as “souls of knowledge.”

Members of the core circle of the Soul Society were not selected through the usual entrance exams in regular schools. Present faculty personally chose them or through trusted referrals within their networks. While it was not their intention, this fostered rift across social factions. The rich, the elite, those with well-known family names, and those who have entered competitions were the ones mostly invited. Not the homeless. Not those in the remote, rural parts of the town. Not their kind. So why did he want to bring Hitsugaya to the academy?

“Did you do something wrong, Toushirou?” Hinamori almost yelled. For some reason, her voice was quaking. The implication of the professor’s visit gave her tremendous uncertainty. Hitsugaya defiantly shook his head at her.

Baba placed reassuring hands on Hitsugaya’s shoulders. “Well, you did something that caught Dr. Kuchiki’s interest. Do you want tea, Professor?”

“No thanks, Ma’am. I would like to go straight to the point of my visit.” The professor stepped into the shade of the large camphor tree and ushered Hitsugaya closer. “Now then, would you like to tell me why my thesis calculations were wrong?”

“Shirou!” Hinamori yelled at him. He wrote on the pages despite her warning.

“I cannot ignore it!” He yelled back.

Apparently, the book was the only copy of Dr. Kuchiki’s graduate thesis. The head librarian called the academy to relay the news when they returned the book. How they found their residence must have took a lot of asking on the ground. Hitsugaya explained why he thought the results were wrong. Hinamori felt she was unable to follow him into uncharted territory. The two continued to exchange theories with the professor trying to resolve that, indeed, there were two answers to his research experiment, and no one determined the other one until Hitsugaya. With a hint of satisfaction on his face, Dr. Kuchiki turned to Baba and started to explain his offer to take the kid to the academy.

“His intellect is one of a kind, but his manners and attitude need further honing. He will be a good candidate in the academy,” the professor said. “You need not provide for him. The academy will shoulder everything – his accommodations, food and book allowance, research grants, and a monthly allowance that will be comfortable for a family of ten. This is usually the incentive amount demanded by the other students.”

Hitsugaya’s eyes widened at the figures. Money enough for a family of ten. “That’s….a lot.”

“Well, I believe the decision is up to Hitsugaya himself.” Baba’s eyes twinkled at the newfound genius.

“We will be expecting you at the academy in the coming winter. If you don’t show up, we will take that as your refusal and will cease contact with you or your family members.” Dr. Kuchiki gave a small bow to Baba before leaving.

Baba squealed in delight and ruffled the kid’s silver hair. “I’m gonna prepare fancy meals for us. Who would ever thought Momo’s watermelon would help me pick up a genius kid?” Her laughter rang in the compound.

“But Baba- I’m not even sure if I will accept,” Hitsugaya pouted. “I don’t want to leave you alone with bed-wetter Momo.” That earned him a slap to the back of his head.

“Your attitude really needs honing!” Hinamori echoed Kuchiki’s words, but she didn’t feel the need to celebrate.

That evening after Baba settled down for an early sleep, they escaped to the hill. The moon and stars were fully out in the clear, night sky. Fireflies were illuminating the foothills, green specks of summer dancing in the dark.

Hinamori was resting on the grass, her eyes immediately identifying all the constellations in an effort to _not_ hear Hitsugaya’s words.

“I think I will take up the offer of that grumpy doctor,” he said with a grass tip between his lips. “You’ll probably be happy without me around, huh? No annoying presence at all. You can go to the library anytime without tagging me! No additional laundry or extra food! Hah, think about that Momo!”

His laugh irritated her. “Of course, I’ll be happy! If you can go away soonest, why not?” She wasn’t entirely sure if she was truly relieved.

“Besides, I’ll have enough to give Baba money. She won’t have to work in farms anymore. You can buy everything you need in the market. You can even move closer to the town complex!” Hitsugaya smiled wistfully. “Baba’s life would be much easier. I won’t be your additional burden anymore.”

“You know Baba, Shirou. She’ll never relocate, and she’ll never accept your money.” When clouds started to appear and covered the moon, she stole a glance at his face. The glow from the fireflies accentuated the hard lines. She realized he has been through so much, being thrown out at a young age with his survival threatened daily. He deserved to have the security that the academy offered, but he wasn’t smiling anymore. “She never treated you as a burden. She took you in because she wanted to.”

 _So that was what he was thinking all along._ Hinamori sighed. She never thought Hitsugaya would hide those kinds of emotions behind his strong and sometimes irritated façade. She presumed he was more of a wear-your-heart-on-your-sleep kind of kid.

“Well, should I leave, Momo?” Sometimes, he was exactly this kind of kid. “There’s a part of me that wants to stay and continue living with you and Baba. We’ll always have the library anyway.”

“Why do you need my approval?” Hinamori chuckled at his question. “Aren’t I the most annoying person in your life?”

She got silence on his end. The fireflies were trailing upwards, as if reaching for the stars and sharing their velvet canvas.

“Because you’re my family, and I care for you. So my question is, do you care for me too?”

She was thankful for the darkness because she didn’t want him to see her smile. She never truly answered his question that night despite his nagging. The summer passed by quickly with the finale culminating with a watermelon eating contest. Hitsugaya won, having finished five whole fruits. That also earned him several trips to the toilet.

Autumn followed suit. With the day of his leaving becoming imminent, Hitsugaya rushed to gather the most number of firewood he can to keep the cold at bay in the compound. They spent the remaining days making jam and stocking up their pantry for times they cannot harvest from nearby farms. On his last day, Hitsugaya requested all three of them to sleep together in Baba’s room.

Baba was the fastest to get knocked out. She was also a heavy sleeper so it was easy to always slip out for their nightly conversations, but Hinamori and Hitsugaya preferred to stay with her tonight.

“I’m happy Baba took me in.” Hitsugaya was on the other side of Baba so she really cannot see the display of expressions on his face. “This was a happy home.”

“Silly. You only stayed less than a year here.” It was true. He arrived just short of spring and will be leaving soon. A full cycle of seasons. It was that short.

“And it was more than enough,” he replied. _For all the years he was alone._ “You know I’ll always sneak out and still go here, right?”

“You dumbass. They might revoke your scholarship. The academy is strict.”

“Well, won’t you come and follow me?”

“I’m not born genius.”

“You taught me how to read, Momo. That’s more than genius.”

“Well, my brain isn’t exactly wired the same way as yours, you know.”

“I’ll sneak out. Wait for me in the daffodil meadow at the end of every three months.”

“Won’t.”

“I’ll bring you watermelon.”

“Won’t.” A beat and a two. Maybe.”

“I’ll still see you and Baba, Momo. Nothing will ever change.”

 _But everything will change._ “Hmm.”

“So, aren’t you going to answer my question? You still have until dawn.”

Hinamori was barely a teen, but her sad history of being orphaned and facing uncertainties daily made her learn that if anything was a constant in this world, it will be change. No matter how they fight against the hands of time and fate, the gears will continue turning. It will only benefit those who move with it. She will not be responsible for stopping his gears from turning.

She reached out her arm, wanting to snuggle against Baba, the only familiar comfort she knew will stay for a long time. Her fingers lightly landed on top his hand. She waited a bit, wondering if he’ll stir or remark on how she was intruding his space.

“Don’t go,” she whispered, but he was already fast asleep. The next day, on the first day of winter, Hitsugaya left the compound.


	4. Great Expectations

Hinamori found herself spacing out in the middle of chores for about a month now. She would be cooking miso soup, and her mind would trail to their conversation on the hill. She would halt in front of the daffodil meadow on the way back from the market and reminisce in the midst of stalks yet to flower, counting down to the third month. She also stopped going to the library because of a growing resentment. If she didn’t bring Hitsugaya there, he wouldn’t have found the book, and he wouldn’t have left. She wondered if she had the right to feel this way, to feel like she lost a friend or a family.

The money from Hitsugaya’s generous allowance came in every end of the month through an academy representative. Baba’s refusals fell on deaf ears, but Hinamori knew she was grateful for the financial support.

True to his promise, Hitsugaya sneaked out of the academy on his third month and met Hinamori on the meadow. He saw her black tendrils flowing with the yellow petals. “Oy, Hinamori.” For a time, it would seem that the gears were running in normal shifts.

This went on for the next three years. Hinamori was given glimpses of his newfound life – of an increasing circle of friends that consisted of a noisy Rangiku, stubborn Rukia, and glutton on steroids Renji. For every encounter, their childhood memories and laidback banter on the yellow field were being replaced by tales of his experiments and model construction with Dr. Kuchiki, the culture shock to the life of the brightest, and the cutthroat competition in academia. For every encounter, he seemed more and more different, but he never let these get the best of him. After all, his silver hair was still shaped like a broomstick, and he still challenged her to watermelon eating contests.

Their meetings stopped when he had to participate in an overseas internship in Karakura. Monthly letters replaced his physical presence until there were none. Exasperated because of her growing loneliness, Baba assured her it was the natural course of things.

“As we grow older Momo, we form a lot of bonds. Some becomes the foundation of our nature and identity while others are circles at certain phases of our lives.” Baba gave her a cup of black tea with a dash of honey, her favorite brew. “There comes a point we grow out of those circles and seek the next set of bonds. The rarest of all, those bonds that accompany you forever.”

“I thought we were his family, Baba.” There was a burning feeling behind Hinamori’s eyes, and she felt a headache forming.

Baba stared at her wistfully and tucked a loose tendril behind her grandchild’s ear. “If you’re so adamant to keep those bonds, why won’t you walk beside him?”

Hinamori shook her head vehemently and slapped her palms on the table. “Baba! I will never leave you. Please stop saying that!” Some of her black tea spilled. “Besides, the academy is invitation-only, remember?”

“Momo my dearest and only, I’m almost 70. I’ve lived a good, full life so far, and I want you to live like that as well. I don’t want you shackled by your past or be burdened by taking care of me. The world is bigger than this town,” Baba chuckled to herself as she took a sip of her tea. “Besides, I have reliable neighbors who will take care of me. We have a telephone now so we can always communicate. Wondrous technology. Oh but you have to teach me.”

“Baba, stop it. The academy is not accepting low-tier students like me.”

“Oh Momo. Just throw it out there and the world will right itself.”

Baba’s wisdom never failed. When Hinamori became 15 years old, the academy opened its gates to the common folk. The complaints about accessibility and inequality probably got to the administration. Investments in the town kept pouring in, demand for residential space was increasing, the clamor to enter the academy regardless of social status eventually gained traction. While the invitation and referral arrangements still existed, the opportunities leveled through general admissions. Well, not quite. The examinations were grueling, and the interviews were tricky to answer. They asked outright for research proposals and the field of specialization one was interested in. On top of her head, Hinamori stated her concentration on terrestrial ecology. Actually, she just wanted to create perennial daffodils so their meadow would be yellow all year round, no matter the season.

Hinamori passed the screening. General admission passers were granted wider freedom but lesser privilege. They were not restricted to stay in the dorms and had normal class schedules that didn’t involve laboratory and experiments on weekends. On the downside, they were provided lesser amount of allowance (good for family of three) which Hinamori was still thankful for. They weren’t also allowed to venture into the buildings of the core members. From her initial grant, she bought a bicycle to make her trips faster and quicker across opposite end of the town. It was an unstable feeling, landing on shifting grounds, but soon enough, she found her balance.

_I’m in. I’m inside the academy’s gates._ It was an exhilarating feeling of great expectations and humble beginnings.

Only 100 students were admitted in the winter. Amid the flurry of post-inauguration activities, Hinamori saw the familiar silver hair sticking out like sore thumb in the middle of the crowd.

_He’s not supposed to be here._ He was accompanied by three people trailing behind at a safe distance. She presumed they were the three Rs – Rangiku, Rukia, Renji. On Hitsugaya’s arms was a bouquet. “Oy, Momo.”

Her cheeks were flushed red. She wished she wore her hair loose instead of a bun because it had started to snow. “Broomstick Shirou-chan.” Was he taller when she last saw him? _Silly, he was gone for two years._

“I just got back from my internship in time for your inauguration.” He handed her the bouquet of bright yellow daffodils, fully blooming in winter. “Congratulations.”

“Oh, I’m still taller than you,” Hinamori blurted out. “Oops. It was supposed to be a personal observation.”

“You know what, give me back the bouquet.”

“But it’s true! You probably still have the same height!”

“Momo, give me the bouquet back.”

“Won’t.” They both laughed it off, unaware of stealing glances from his company.

“Oooh is she the one you’re always writing letters to, Hitsugaya?” the blond-haired girl asked. “How sweet! Childhood sweethearts!”

“Shut up, Rangiku!”

“Oh no, we’re truly not-“ Hinamori started, but she was immediately cut off.

“Childhood sweethearts?!” the red-haired one yelled. “You mean to tell me this was fate? Wow, I’m so jealous.”

“I’m literally right here, Abarai.” The black-haired kid who was almost the same height as Hitsugaya was probably the least intense of the group. “I’m Kuchiki Rukia, by the way.”

_Well, her surname certainly is,_ Hinamori thought. “I’m Hinamori Momo, Shirou-chan’s childhood friend.”

“Shirou-chan?!” They collectively egged him on, laughing at his clear embarrassment.

“Momo, stop using that nickname!”

Hinamori inhaled the clear scent of pine and camphor trees, reminding her of Baba cozy with her stacked fireplace and of stored jams in their pantry. She can’t wait to tell her Hitsugaya’s back. With the mended symbol of their bond on the crook of her arm, she entered the new phase of her life. Shifting grounds and great expectations.

* * *

“Please greet Dr. Sousuke Aizen. He’s one of the foremost molecular biologists outside of Soul, and we are privileged to have him teach here. He will be your professor for biology. Keep in mind that you are arranged by your specialization, and he will be your mentor until you graduate in the academy,” Dr. Unohana, the academy director, announced to a class of fifteen.

Hinamori already outlined ten distinct thesis proposals in her first week. She made headstart on her readings too, already halfway on their given references for the year. If she was going to reunite fully with her friend, she needed to be a core member, and she will work hard for it.

Then, the name finally registered in her mind. Sousuke Aizen. The author of the most recent book she borrowed from the library which was also her inspiration for her thesis topics. She was engrossed with his theories, his writing style, and argumentations that she borrowed all his related books. If she was a radiologist, he was her Marie Curie. Sousuke Aizen was her teacher.

He had a magnetic presence, demanding all eyes on him. It was difficult not to notice him with his broad figure and soft tussle of dark brown hair. If eyes could smile, then he had those, albeit hidden behind square-shaped spectacles. His authoritative stance and the emanating kind disposition were confusing and difficult to compromise.

_What an interesting person._ Hinamori thought herself perceptive of people’s personalities based on her first impressions with them. That wasn’t successful with Hitsugaya though.

“So, should we start, or would you like me to immediately dismiss?”

It also perked up her interest that he was comfortable enough to teach without a lesson plan in hand or books. He would just talk conversationally with his students and still cover a multitude of topics. He wasn’t the stiff professor that Dr. Kuchiki was. Her classmates would seek him out after classes, asking him to join their group dinners. When she attended once, he noticed she wasn’t talking.

“Hinamori, are you still uncomfortable with your new learning setting?” Dr. Aizen asked. He gestured to refill her now empty teacup, and she obliged him with a nod. “I’ve heard you mostly got your knowledge from reading. Impressive.”

She blushed at the compliment. “I try to do my best, Dr. Aizen.”

He placed his cheek on his hand and stared at her. “You know, I also came from a rural area. Made it hard for me to mingle with the central town brats.”

_Brats_. She laughed at this sudden connection. “I’m also trying on that area, Sir. I made friends, but they’re on the other side of building.” _Was it safe to share that?_

“Oh, you have friends from the core Soul group? Fascinating. That means you’re really interesting Hinamori.” He smiled at her, tapping the empty tea pot. “You can talk to me anytime. My office is open for any concerns, academic or otherwise. I want you to know I can be on your friend list.”

The fact that he related to her situation made her happy. A renowned professor with the same roots as her still managed to get to the top. She felt seen. By the end of the semester, Hinamori volunteered to be his research assistant.


	5. Wanting validations

“Momo, don’t forget your bento,” Baba called out just before Hinamori dashed towards her bicycle. She grabbed the two packed bento from her grandmother and pecked her cheek.

“I’ll try my best to give this to Hitsugaya today.” She was having trouble finding Hitsugaya without being caught by professors and other supervisors. “He’s gonna miss out on the fresh watermelon slices you packed in otherwise.”

Despite their staggered meetings, she found herself in high spirits. Dr. Aizen has continued to depend on her more, even letting her write a draft for a book section. She wasn’t sure if she had the qualifications to write such. She was only finishing her first semester, but the professor tempered her self-doubts with assurances.

“I don’t know if you ever noticed this, Hinamori. You’re a fast learner. You have the highest grades in your section, even above the upper middle-class folk,” Dr. Aizen handed her a large bulk of papers. “These are some designs I’m planning to use for my large-scale project next year. Go through them and annotate for me, would you?”

She was continuously yawning until she reached the academy. She glanced at the clock tower in the middle of the campus grounds and figured she can slip in a quick nap before her morning classes. She was busy deciphering the documents in the past few weeks to the point that she would sometimes go without sleep.

“I think I have a migraine,” Momo grumbled to herself. “Dr. Aizen should be consistent with his handwriting. The varying strokes in each document are like sending me on an acid trip.”

“What sends you into an acid trip?” Hitsugaya popped in behind her, dressed in the flashy, identifying grabs of a Soul member. He reached out to grab her arm and led her through a narrow alley between the buildings.

“Hey, good morning Shirou,” Momo said sarcastically while trying to match his steps. They arrived in front of a small almost-dilapidated room. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Maybe, do you want me to shower you with yellow petals?” he joked. The room inside was definitely not worn down. The three Rs were there but were all asleep in bunk beds. Rukia and Renji sleeping together in the lower bunk with backs behind each other. That made Hinamori blush until she remembered Hitsugaya saying they were also childhood friends. Rangiku was passed out in the upper bunk with a subtle smell of alcohol.

“I see your nostrils twitching. Rangiku needs alcohol sometimes to power through her exams,” he gestured for me to sit on a day bed on the corner of the room.

“What is this?” Hinamori asked, feeling a little slow because she was only able to get two hours of sleep. She sat beside him and controlled the urge to close her eyes.

“It’s an escape dungeon. They think this is the sleeping quarters of the custodians, which of course is, but they rented it out to us.” Seeing Momo settled, he started to fill the nearby kettle to boil some water. “Did you get converted into a coffee addict or are you still my tea-loving friend Momo?”

“Black tea please.” Momo smiled at him. “How erratic are your schedules? Our class is about to start in one hour.”

He glanced at her, smirking. “How erratic is _your_ schedule? Your eyebags are heavier than mine. Oh, is that a bento?”

“Baba made this. It has watermelon inside.” At such an opportune moment, Hitsugaya’s stomach grumbled. “Come on, let’s eat together like the good old days.”

She thought he was about to grab his bento box, but he reached out across her, their faces looming closer to each other. “Why don’t you sneak in some snoozes while I eat?” He was arranging the pillows behind her.

Hinamori woke up to the school bells ringing, a flurry of robes, and cacophony of curses. Slightly disoriented, she found herself waking up from Hitsugaya’s lap who was frozen red in his place, the empty bento box on the table beside him and a gray flask. How she got to that position she will never know because panic started to set in.

“Good morning, Hinamori!” Renji and Rukia both yelled before running through the door.

“Gotta go, childhood _friends_. Gotta thank you Histugaya. Renting this place primarily to see Hinamori and secondarily for us to rest is genius,” Rangiku said as she traipsed outside.

“Fuck,” Hitsugaya muttered under his breath, truly embarrassed. “Here’s your black tea Momo. Tell Baba her bento gave me the energy I needed.” He handed her the gray flask without meeting her eyes. “You gotta go, although your classroom’s much nearer.”

Still disoriented, she started towards the exit. Remembering a nagging question in her mind, she halted and glanced back at him, “Shirou-chan.”

“Hmm?” He still wasn’t meeting her gaze.

“How did you preserve the daffodils? It was below zero temperatures that week. Frost would have already killed them.”

This time he looked at her. “I just sprayed them with a solution I made, Momo. But I know you would have found a way to alter them naturally.”

Hitsugaya always has this weird way of validating her. His trust in her abilities has grown so much despite the time that they were apart. She wanted to honor that. “Thank you.”

* * *

It has soon become their morning routine – Hinamori with her bento boxes that soon included the rest of the group, Hitsugaya with the black tea for her and coffee for the rest, and few minutes of snooze on the sofa slash day bed. It wasn’t as if they haven’t slept beside each other since they were kids, but the slight reprieve was something to look forward to. They would be able to slip in mundane conversations in between, but almost often Hinamori would doze off in the middle of Hitsugaya’s rants. She has fully exchanged her nights with sleepless annotations for the experiment designs. She knew Dr. Aizen was ambidextrous, but it bothered her that the blueprints and guides frequently changed handwriting styles, and the discussion structures varied. Well, it couldn’t be helped that the professor’s thoughts ran too wildly that his hands were barely able to keep up. By the end of the semester, she was able to finish the book section, submit the annotations with her own suggestions for recalibration, and top her class.

“I think it was only a matter of time, Hinamori.” Rangiku quickly stole Hitsugaya’s sandwich from his hands and sat across them in their (open) secret hideout.

“What is?” Hinamori resisted the urge to clean the room. Printouts were sprawled everywhere, coffee stains on beds and tables, and a lot of instant ramen packs. While general admission students have the benefit of semestral break, the core Soul group tended to be occupied with competitions, conferences, and exhibits abroad. Hitsugaya’s group will be traveling to Karakura next week to compete against the infamous Ishida Uryuu, a prodigy of optics in physics.

“Why don’t you make your own sandwich Rangiku?” Hitsugaya grunted as he downed the last bit of his coffee and decided to lie down on the day bed behind his childhood friend’s sitting figure. After a minute or two, he started to snore.

“Your membership to the core group, of course. Hard to miss your superb accomplishments,” Rangiku replied. “Your radiant personality is also a plus. That would make it easier to hang out with us.”

Hinamori blushed at the compliment. “Thanks, Rangiku, but I really doubt I’ll get in.” The gap in expertise and intellect between core and general admission students was assumed to be wide enough to hinder friendships between the two groups, but she never felt that way with them. Granted that she was Hitsugaya’s friend, they never reacted strongly to her addition. It was true however that there was a gap. What inherent genius they have been born with, she compensated with hard work.

“Wish us luck though. I hate to see the bastard Ichigo smirking if we fail in the exhibit.” She’d be exaggerating, but veins really started to pulse around Renji’s temples.

“Stupid, there’s no if. We won’t fail. As if I’d let Ishida rub his win over my dead body,” Rukia interjected with the intensity of her competitiveness. She turned to Hinamori with an embarrassed smile. “Well, the deliberation will probably happen over the break. With us out in Karakura, they’d probably not look much into your relationship with Hitsugaya or with us.”

“Apparently, according to the academy’s standards, friendships are not meritorious. Such a stupid rule,” Renji added. This was the reason why they avoided letting both students and professors see them together. Only Dr. Aizen knew of their friendship. He made her feel like she could trust him with her secrets.

As if Rangiku read her mind, she quipped, “You’ve been meeting Dr. Aizen lately, right Hinamori?”

“I volunteered as his research assistant. The professor has a lot of projects with the academy so I do my best to ease the load.”

“How many projects is he handling?”

“He has five large-scale projects programmed for this year.”

“And he’s doing it solo? Wow, that’s a lot of work and a lot of funding.”

“Thank God for the investors, I guess.”

“If you get accepted as a core member, he would lose a great RA,” Renji assured her. A big question mark was probably on her face because he immediately expounded his statement. “Core members are expected to complete projects on their specialization. If you’re as genius as the midget sleeping over there or Rukia’s brother, you can complete as many as you like. But most of the time, we work in groups like how professors work together too.”

Rukia aided him, “What Renji is trying to say, you won’t have the time to help Dr. Aizen anymore.”

A foreign feeling crept along her insides. Over the years, she has mastered the act of hiding her emotions with a nonchalant smile, and she did this now to brush off three pairs of probing eyes. Confusing emotions from the conversation accompanied her to the semestral break party organized by her section. Balloons and streamers decorated the interior of their go-to ramen house. The owner, enamored with the boisterous students, provided free-flowing broth and discounted noodles refill. Several of her classmates tapped her on the shoulder and congratulated her for landing on the top.

In the midst of jovial cacophony, she felt untethered. Needing the space to rationalize her thoughts, she quietly slipped out of the party and traced her steps back to the academy. She was floating in-between circles, trying to walk beside her friend and at the same time, trying to make sense of who she was and what she wanted to be. Her memories brought her back to her first conversation with Dr. Aizen where she truly felt _seen_ and _needed._

But she was spending her days playing catch up to someone who doesn’t need her. Did she really want to join the core group to realize her dreams or did she want to join simply because of Toshirou? She found herself in front of Dr. Aizen’s office. “Professor.”

The door opened, revealing a disheveled glass-less Aizen. His furrowed brows immediately softened when he saw her. “Hinamori, come in.”

Hinamori hesitated because she didn’t know why she went to his office in the first place and what she wanted to talk about. But she stepped in anyway without further prodding, afraid to disappoint him. “Professor, I-“

“I saw your annotations, and I appreciated the suggestions for calibrations. You made my job much easier, Hinamori. You brought these projects closer to completion at a much earlier date.” He brushed his fingers through his brown hair and sighed contentedly. “But I need you to do one more thing for me. It’s very urgent, and only you can do it.”

Warmth coursed through her body. He trusted her well enough to do this. “Anything for you, Dr. Aizen.”

He quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. It was a description of a notebook– plain black cover, velvet finish, coffee-stained surfaces, and the first few pages ripped out. “It’s my long-lost notebook. I’ve searched everywhere, but I cannot find it. Maybe you can look through the libraries.”

“It will be difficult, Professor, given the broad description, but I will not let you down.”

“Of course, Hinamori. I know you too well already. You exceed my expectations. Do find it quickly for our funders. They are expecting me to complete the study over the break.”

“Over the break! That’s short notice, Dr. Aizen. You need to rest!” she complained. Embarrassed of her outburst, she covered her face with her small hands, flushing red at her visible concern towards her mentor. “I mean, please think of your health Sir.”

The brown-haired doctor looked at her incredulously and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I really lucked out with you, Hinamori. Why are you here again? Do you need to tell me something?”

She peeked at him through her fingers but found she can’t return his steady gaze. Straying her eyes to the floor, she requested, “Please deny my membership to the core group, Sir. I want to stay by your side more.” All of her senses were overwhelming her because of his close proximity and the comfortable weight of his large hands on her shoulders. Her emotions may have gone into override when he pulled her into a hug.

“Of course, Hinamori. You’re my one and only precious research assistant.”

She found the notebook the following day in the same library where she and Hitsugaya used to go, conveniently so as it was positioned beside her most borrowed ecology book. It was a tattered piece of document, but the experiment design and the parameters set were the first of their kind. She brought it immediately to Dr. Aizen and suggested to patent it. “You could name the methodology after you, Professor. Or better if it’s a theory – Aizen Laws on Ecological Succession or something.”

“Aren’t you a doll? You always say the most interesting things.”

With the set deadline for this particular study, Hinamori agreed to accompany the professor in a fieldwork on a mountain outside of town for a week. She would be back in time for Baba’s birthday.

* * *

She didn’t make it back in time. She got stuck with Dr. Aizen for two weeks in the mountain because he needed to repeat his sampling, not that she regretted it. _Baba will understand. I expect she’ll be angry for a few days, but I’ll make it up to her. I just missed one birthday after all._

What she didn’t expect was Hitsugaya standing guard under the camphor tree, worried, angry, and defiant at the same time.

“Where the fuck did you go, Momo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have intense writer's block this week so if this chapter seems jumbled, please forgive me. I'll try to edit after I recharge. Thank you for reading!


	6. In Retrospect

Hitsugaya had a plan – become the youngest tenured faculty in the academy and have countless watermelon contests with Baba and Momo. Graduation and tenure meant freedom to come home, to live out the rest of his days with the only family he knew. What he did not take into consideration was the prospect of marriage.

“That’s your plan?” Rangiku asked incredulously. Hidden between those words, he knew, was mockery. “You really are going through puberty.”

“Shut up, Rangiku. What do you know?”

“As a lady soon to reach the prime age of 18, I know a lot more than you. Raging hormones, pulls of attraction, intense infatuation-“

Hitsugaya had to cut her off before she ventured into more delicate matters, Rangiku-style. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t intend to marry.”

“Unless you see yourself marrying Hinamori, then you’re set for life. Otherwise, it’s an overly simplistic plan dead set on failing.”

“I don’t think of her like that. She’s just…my friend or like a sister.”

Rangiku didn’t say anything back then, but she brought it up again during their trip to Karakura. “Hey Hitsugaya. If you see Momo as your sister, why do you go through the extra mile for her? Sneaking out to meet her? Studying how to preserve daffodils? Renting out the custodian room? With family, you assume they’ll always be there, but you act as if you always need to do something for her to stay.”

He pretended to doze off right at that moment to avoid answering her question, simply because he was also confused. _Momo is home,_ that he knew for sure _._ When the academy opened its gates for general admission, he half-expected Momo to apply. She was curious of the world and has a way with nature and plants. She would be interested in a formal education, at the very least. When she got accepted, he was beyond happy despite the black and white rules of classism and made-up hierarchy. When she told him she would like to be considered as a Soul core member, he wondered if that was her personal dream. Regardless, he rooted for her success. He always believed in her capabilities, and he never saw her lagging behind. She has her own pace and her own road to pave while he has his. In his mind, they were two separate journeys hoping to merge at the end of their respective successful conclusions.

So when did the realization set in that their paths have indefinite forks, forever parallel in their progress? Was it when he heard the uncertainty in her voice when their friends told her about the repercussions of her eventual Soul membership? Was it the twinkle in her eyes when she first told him she volunteered to assist Aizen in his studies? Was it the delivery of the news from Unohana that Aizen did not advocate for her membership to Soul, stating that Momo herself denied the offer? Or was it the tacit recklessness of her fieldwork which left Baba alone in the process?

“Where the fuck did you go, Momo?”

Tired eyes stared back at him and she mustered an apologetic smile. “I was in a fieldwork, Shirou. I’ll make it up to Baba, I promise.” Before she could take any step further, she suddenly collapsed on the ground. He ran towards her in a flurry, his heartbeat pounding wildly on his chest. He brought her inside, his feet knowing where her room was, and his mouth calling for Baba. Momo was running a high fever, possibly from fatigue and extended exposure to foreign elements.

“Do I need to call a doctor?” Baba was breathless as she entered the room. She placed her palm on her grandchild’s forehead and released a breath in relief. “We don’t have to. I’ll brew a medicinal tea. Help me gather the herbs Hitsugaya.”

The sun was setting when he got back, but Momo was still unconscious. He sat next to her futon and replaced the towel on her forehead. Somehow the temperature lowered down. It was so unlike Momo to leave Baba alone for two weeks, and especially during her birthday. He couldn’t help but feel angry towards Aizen. It was clear he was overworking her with no regards to her physical health. He didn’t even bother to check if his assistant was in good condition when they wrapped up the on the field. Then again, Momo was not the type to complain and openly state her well-being.

Books, notes, and papers were strewn around her once immaculate room. _Too busy and overworked to clean,_ he thought. A folder with the label ‘References’ caught his attention. Curious if it contained the literature she was studying, he opened it. Contrary to his expectation, it was full of Aizen’s university records – from his student days to his faculty experience. The professor should have been tenured by now, considering his qualifications, publications, and pedigree, but he kept bouncing from one university to another. _Maybe he just doesn’t want to settle down?_

It dawned on him that Momo’s admiration for Aizen ran deep. She deferred the membership because that would take her away from the professor’s side. She didn’t need the academy or the prestige of being identified as a Soul. She only needed Aizen’s referral to apply in the same universities he studied in. Unfamiliar emotions rose to the surface. She chose a dream away from his side but closer to the professor’s. The fork in their roads was a deliberate, conscious decision, and he felt slighted at the implication.

Beside the folder was a photocopy of a list of equations and diagrams. Scrawled at the bottom were notes in a handwriting very familiar to him. Why was the work of his internship mentor, Urahara Kisuke, in Aizen’s studies?

Hitsugaya was broken out of his reverie when Momo stirred from her sleep. He hovered above her, checking again her temperature and called for Baba. She stared at him through her hooded eyes. “You stayed, Shirou?”

“Of course, silly. No one can drag your heavy body from the ground but me.”

“Did you win?”

“It was a draw. Ishida was too good for us and could have won with a landslide, but thank God Ichigo messed up his presentation.” He assisted Baba in helping Momo drink the herbal medicine. The old woman was near tears when Momo apologized for missing out on her birthday.

“My dear, just rest and recuperate. We’ll never leave your side. Let’s celebrate on another day, okay?” Baba placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Momo nodded weakly.

Baba shuffled out the room, a weight lifted off from her shoulders. “I’ll be preparing dinner, Hitsugaya. Are you going to stay the night?”

Momo was out of the woods, and Baba has all the ingredients for medicine. He was worried, but ultimately, he knew he wasn’t needed here. “I should go.”

A hand reached out under the blanket and wrapped itself loosely around his wrist, the fingers cold and clammy. “Shirou.” She didn’t need to say anything more. It was the silent plea in her voice and his uncontrollable urge to care for her. He swayed to her words as if he was programmed to do so the day he set foot in this world,

“On second thought, I might sleep here, Baba.” The old woman smiled at her two charges, happy to see them reunited despite the circumstances. She hummed a tune on her way back to the kitchen.

Hitsugaya also smiled, wanting time to revert to days of tranquility and blissful ignorance. He plied her fingers off his wrist, wanting to place it back under the comfort of her blanket, but he found himself wounding his own fingers through hers. He glanced at her face at any sign of objection and discomfort. “Is this okay?”

“Hmm.” She tightened her clasp on his hand and fell back to her deep slumber a moment after. He wished to have this privilege repeated when she regains her clarity, but he knew they’d be a fumbling mess of embarrassed individuals. _It’s okay to stay like this._

* * *

They were granted two weeks of vacation after the Karakura event, the remaining of which Hitsugaya spent with Momo and Baba. With two people keeping her in close observation throughout her full recovery, Momo had to temporarily stop writing research drafts. She was on bed rest in the next two days with Hitsugaya beside her. The following day, she was granted permission by Baba to walk around the compound, and on the next day, Hitsugaya and her slipped out to the meadow, still brimming with daffodils but some parts have wilted to signal the start of winter.

“We should buy a cake for Baba. Do you think there’s a watermelon-flavored one?” Momo busied her fingers, making crown out of the flowers. They never got around to talk about her denied confirmation to Soul yet.

“Your saturation point must be too high. We have been devouring that fruit since your bed rest.” But he didn’t want to be the person to bring it up first. “Let’s stick with vanilla and caramel. I’ll find one in the town central tomorrow. Can’t believe it’s gonna be another the start of another semester again.”

“Shirou?”

“Hmm?”

Her fingers stopped working on the flower crown, but she did not raise her eyes to him. “I won’t apologize for the Soul offer. I don’t want it at the moment.”

That hurt him in more ways than one. “Okay.”

“What?” She whipped her head back at him, wondering why he wasn’t angry.

Well, he didn’t have any right to be angry, after all. It wasn’t her plan. _He_ wasn’t on her plan, and no matter how much he wanted her to accept the membership and stay closer to him, it still stood that he won’t be part of her plan. He has no right to take that choice away from her because….he was just a friend. “Just promise me you won’t overwork yourself.”

He was thankful that she smiled, having been relieved of the burden to articulate the why’s behind her decision. Frankly, he also didn’t want to hear them directly from her mouth.

“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll try!”

“For all that it’s worth, I hope he compensates you enough. Or put your name as his co-author.”

“Huh?”

Questioning eyes prodded more explanation from him. “Compensation. You know, salary that professors give to their RAs? Funding usually covers those fees. It’s also standard academe ethic to acknowledge them in their papers or have them as their co-authors.”

Momo’s face was a blank slate.

 _That can’t be right. Aizen did those, didn’t he?_ Hitsugaya opened his mouth again to pry the specifics of their contract, but Momo put on her jovial self, her defense mechanism. He decided not to push her, given that she just recovered.

“This would look good on you.” She nimbly placed the flower crown on his head, her smile breaking into laughter at the shock and embarrassment on his face.

“Get this off Momo before someone sees us!”

“Oh come on, just five minutes please.”

He relented, only to prolong her laughter in his presence. “I can’t say no to you.”

She scooted closer to him and arranged the flowers on his head, touching the tendrils of his silver hair. In a non-Momo fashion, she scooped up his cheeks in her hands. “You look like a cute dumpling!”

Warmth flooded his cheeks. “You’re too close Momo,” he tried to say through his scrunched mouth. He took hold of her wrists, trying to pry her hands away from his face, and it was a situation stupidly similar to that night they held hands. “I like you.”

He just blurted it out like that, her wrists in his hands, her daffodil flower crown on his head, and her smile still on her face. It wasn’t a declaration based on impulse, it was a domino effect of all the little things, all the little feelings, and all the little encounters. One by one, they have filled up his entirety like how a small daffodil can fill up a meadow. At that very moment, he understood what Rangiku meant.

“I like you too, Shirou.” It was an empty echo borne out of a friendship reflex. She knew that he knew they didn’t hold the same weight as his, but it was enough for now.

He pulled her in for a hug in the middle of that yellow meadow, a witness to their growth and the last happy memory they would have together.

* * *

He wouldn’t say Momo avoided him for that semester, but her appearance suddenly became scarce. Up until the middle of the semester, she still went to their secret room and profusely apologized to the three Rs for denying the membership offer. She made it up to them, bringing bento boxes, buying new sets of tea and coffee. Hitsugaya noticed she didn’t mention their conversation and hug again, and he considered they were already past it. Then, she just stopped coming.

Irked and superbly irritated, he tried going to their side of the building. Almost conveniently, Aizen ran into him and asked what he wanted from his classes. Not wanting to stir up the pot, Hitsugaya made an excuse about getting lost and returned to the core building side. _Something is fishy._ _If I cannot see her in the academy, there’s one place to go to._

He sneaked out one weekend to the compound to know how she was. To his surprise, the area was largely unkempt and most windows were closed. It was highly unusual because Baba will never slack out on her chores. He heard chronic coughing behind the door, a loud boom, and a string of things crashing one after another.

“Baba!” He found her lying on the floor, blood dripping from her mouth, her hands scratched with broken shards of glass.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as his small figure tried to lift her up on his back. It was a miracle that he was able to reach the hospital just in time before she crashed. He wasn’t family, but the doctors needed consent for an immediate surgery. He gave the go-signal. He couldn’t wait for Momo.

She appeared at midnight, well past the time Baba had her surgery. Pale-faced and shivering from fear, she turned to Hitsugaya, willing him to tell her what happened, but he wasn’t looking at her.

A doctor appeared at his side, saving him from a lengthy conversation he didn’t have the energy to make.

“Your grandmother had chronic coughing in the past few weeks, it seemed, and she developed pneumonia. The infection scarred her lungs and caved them in, and that made her cough up blood. We had to take some portion of it out in surgery. She’s in the ICU and recovering, but you need to wait for a while because she is still susceptible to infections.”

Momo mouthed her thank you before dropping against the wall beside Hitsugaya.

“Where were you, Momo?”

“I was working with Dr. Aizen in some of his experiments. The workload was too much I had to sleep in school. I didn’t come home for two weeks. Only two weeks.”

“In those two weeks you left her alone, sick, and bedridden with no one to care for her.” Hitsugaya can’t stop the spite in his voice. “If I didn’t come to your house, you would not have found her alive.”

“I needed this. Baba understood me when I told her I’d be gone.”

“Baba always understands because she wants the best for you! She’ll never deny you that. Why are you so enamored with that professor that you can’t see through everyone else?”

“You’re overstepping a line here.”

“Why are you trying so hard to please him to the point that you’d risk Baba’s life for his work?”

“His work is my work too.”

“Exactly, Momo. You’re just a piece of his work. You’re a pawn that he liked to play around. He never compensated you nor credited you. I’ve read all of his articles and not one mentioned your name so don’t tell me that you’re busy working for your dreams when you’re wasting your time with him and killing off people you love.”

A resounding slap echoed in the hospital hallway. Tears were flowing from Momo’s eyes, and it pained him that he was the cause.

“Dr. Aizen is a respectable man, and I will not allow you to slander him further. You are just a peasant, an orphan we took from the street out of pity, and now you want to act like you have our best interests at heart when you entered the academy but in actuality, it was for your own selfish desire. You want to lecture me about hard work? I may always be his assistant, but you, with all your Soul perks and hierarchy, will never be on the same level as him. You’ll come far and achieve much more, but at the end of the day, you’ll always be a peasant. So get out of my sight and never come back until you become like him.”

* * *

The next day, the supervisors and senior faculty represented by Byakuya and Unohana entered Aizen’s class. Trailing behind them in close distance was Urahara Kisuke, a renowned ecologist in Karakura who went on a sabbatical leave ten years ago.

“What an A-team. What do you need, madame and sirs?” Aizen cheerfully asked.

“Aizen Sousuke and Hinamori Momo, please follow us to the academy tribunal. You are wanted for plagiarism, fraud, and embezzlement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter and this one were quite lengthy. Were they too taxing to read? I'm sorry for that! Also wondering if any of you saw the *end* coming? >.< This chapter has Hitsugaya's POV. Hope you like it!

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this originally in Tumblr as a one-shot fic for HitsuHina day last Feb 27-28. Since I'm practicing writing again, I would like to stretch this out into a multi-chapter series. Comments and feedbacks are very much appreciated!


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